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Losing myself in love

I know what you’re thinking…another blog post about being in love. Well folks, sorry but that’s not what this is…exactly. I mean, yay for love and all that jazz, but I’m talking about passion. All consuming, gut wrenching, can’t stop thinking about it passion. Again, not what you’re thinking about, but I’ll explain in more detail.

Did you ever have a desire to do one thing so much that it muted every other distraction in your life? Phones ringing, social media dinging, kids fighting, spouses squawking, bills assaulting you through snail mail, annoying neighbors…just about everything else aside from your one true love? Or loves??

I honestly don’t know how many other people there are like this. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love my family more than anything else in the world. I love my friends. I love the feeling of endorphins rushing in when I exercise…yes exercise, we may not be as close as we once were but we will be again one day, I promise. And I love the beach…I really love the beach, we have a thing…

But my passion lies in the arts. Writing, painting, drawing, photographing, crafting, cooking. (Yes, I consider cooking a delectable art form!) And not just in the spectator form, although I could do that non-stop as well. But in the active participation…I get lost in it. Completely and utterly lost. And I love that feeling. Love. Love. Love. Getting lost in my craft allows me escape. To transcend this existence and become lost in another. It is a feeling that is close to immeasurable. It is euphoric and draining, and everything that makes me feel alive.

I don’t write, paint, draw, craft, or even cook every day. Shhhh…don’t speak on the cooking thing with my husband…lol. He would love it if I were chained to the stove with an apron and a spatula, whipping up the next delectable foodgasm to go into his tummy, but I digress…lol. Even though I don’t do the things I love everyday, the things that fill me to overflowing with passion, it doesn’t mean that I don’t thinkabout doing them everyday. It doesn’t mean that I don’t have years worth of half finished stories squirreled away, journals collecting dust filled with years of angsty poetry, stacks of drawings and paintings piled in the back of a closet, bags of craft odds and ends strewn to the far corners of the house, and scrumptious cookbooks creating themselves in the chaos that is my mind.

What I do have is more like a fire. A fire that burns in me so intensely that the rest of the world falls aways for a few blessed hours. Often I have a tendency to get lost in my art when I finally allow myself to commit to whatever craft has summoned my muse.

Without a doubt, of all my loves, writing and painting are the top contenders for my affection. I find myself painting or furiously typing away for hours on end…neglecting practically everything else that needs attending to. It is my happy place. Mentally anyway. Physically my happy place is on the beach. Any beach. Winter, spring, summer, fall. The season doesn’t matter. Just the ocean air and the waves crashing on the shore. My refuge from the harsh realities that are this world.

When I finally commit to my love, I am lost to the world for a few blissful hours. Some, like our doctor friends, might call it mania. But I call it love. These are some of my favorite moments in life.

When a story pulls me in and won’t let me go. When a painting requires me to spend hours on a detail that no one else will ever see. When the food hits my tongue and my pleasure receptors express themselves as a moan that is audible for anyone to hear. This is what I love. This is who I am. This is passion. This is my passion.

What we do when we are lost to the world is our passion. Our loves. What do you love and how often do you allow yourself to do it? My oldest son has a habit of being very profound and insightful. He will see me struggling mentally with some issue that won’t matter when I am dead and gone and will ask me seemingly randomly “Mom, when was the last time you did something that made you happy?” or “Mom, why don’t you go do something you love instead sitting there being upset?” and it’s in these moments that I see his profound greatness. His ability to break down the arguments in my head to go do something I love. For me. For them. For anyone who crosses my path.

So again, I ask you. What do you love and how often do you allow yourself to do it? Life is too short to be angry, upset, or anxious all the time. Listen to your muse and let it come out to play. You, and everyone who loves you, might just be thankful for the gift you are giving to not only yourself, but to them as well.

We are more in tune with ourselves when we allow ourselves to love. Be it people. Or passions. Just take some time to lose yourself in love.

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2 thoughts on “Losing myself in love”

I know that feeling well. I always say I have an obsessive personality because of the way I throw myself into my writing (though I have been known to spend an entire weekend baking, as well), but really it’s just a case of following my passions. I’ve never understood how some people make it through life without that thing (or things) that gives them reason to get up in the morning. Without something to provide a sense of achievement.

Thanks Victoria. Great minds think alike and all that…or do they really? Lol. Yes, for the most part I’d have to say so, but great minds also tend to see things differently than the rest of the world… As completely random and eccentric our personalities may seem to some, people with passion are destined for greater joys…and greater sorrows as well. I completely agree with your thinking. I used to say I had an obsessive personality as well, but more recently learned the truth about myself…or more accurately about my passions. Maybe we are obsessively passionate about our passions? Something to think about. I hope anyone who stops to read this post will stop to think about what they love as well. Where their passion lies…Thanks for taking the time to read and comment.